serenity blaze/ Alyssa,
This particular thing is a response to Alan Booth
as I met and walked with him in his “Looking for the Lost”
(ISBN: 1568361483). To quote one of the reader reviewers
“Looking for the Lost is an oddity. A book that I remember few details of, yet I remember with great vividness that I was moved by a intangible sadness that was always just over the next horizon of his journeys. Alan Booth was a writer of invincible good humor. Too much so to speak of his own impending death. . . But the alert reader is constantly aware of an impending passing of life, seemingly inseparable from the passing of beauty in this country.”
Until the end he never speaks of his illness, (a cancer that took him at 48
which he eventually alludes to), yet in and between the lines there is a
sense of leave taking. It’s a very quiet, almost ineffable, experience yet
one which I, at least, through re-reading have felt the urge to more than once.
In the poem “Silence” Edgar Lee Masters asks:
“For the depths,
Of what use is language?”
Alan seems to have known that to attempt to speak directly is to
then use words as can only, at best, touch and more often distract
and/or detract from and thereby diminish, if not deny, the experience of
those depths. So instead you walk with him and within his words feel
his being , his affection for life, and his goodbye.
If my thing causes some interest, then I’m pleased.